


War Is Over, If You Want It

by Lothiriel84



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Gen, Post-His Last Vow, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:11:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very Merry Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	War Is Over, If You Want It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyriadProBold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyriadProBold/gifts).



There would be no family gathering this Christmas; Mycroft claimed he’d had enough last year, and Sherlock couldn’t exactly blame him. The Watsons were visiting Harry for a change, so he’d had to abandon any plans of spending the holidays with his favourite (and only) godchild; Lestrade and Molly had apparently booked a ‘romantic’ trip or something, and Anthea had not so subtly implied she would get him to escort his parents to the opera if he didn’t stop texting her.

He supposed it was either accepting Janine’s invitation to Sussex, or resigning himself to a slow death by boredom – even if he couldn’t quite make sense of her offer in the first place. Still he packed his violin and his waltzing outfit, just in case.

 

* * *

 

Three rounds of waltz and a bottle of champagne later they were huddled together in front of the fireplace, and he paused a moment when he caught himself staring at the inviting softness of her lips.

“You know, I’ve always wondered if you’ve ever had – anyone,” she murmured as if between herself, a rueful smile playing at the corner of her mouth. A fleeting memory flickered about his brain, but he resolutely pushed it away; Janine was nothing like the Woman, and he was secretly grateful for that.

“Does it matter?” he shrugged, implicitly answering her question. He’d never had anyone just like he seldom ever got the chance to indulge in dancing, and he might as well go without either of those comforts for the rest of his life.

Or maybe not, as his mind pointed out somewhat redundantly when she tilted her head up and met him halfway. And if his tailcoat was irremediably ruined after lying crumpled on the floor the whole night, he couldn’t say he truly regretted its loss.


End file.
